


The Most We Can Do

by edenbound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-03
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenbound/pseuds/edenbound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It never seems to get around to being the right time for them. Episode tag for Good God Y'all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most We Can Do

"You alright?"

Dean looks up, quirks an eyebrow and looks down again. "Are you?"

"No," Jo says. She orders her own drink and sits down next to him. Her elbow bumps his. "And it's okay, you know. To admit that you're not."

Dean shrugs. "I thought, when I saw you again, you'd slap me like your mother did."

"I've thought about it." She shrugs, this time. He doesn't look at her, wanting her to go away, because in a minute she'll open her mouth and all sorts of stupid questions are going to come rolling right out. But she doesn't say anything, now. She just sits there. Their elbows bump a couple of times, but it doesn't even seem like she's doing it on purpose.

"Used to be more talkative."

"Used to be a lot of things. I've got questions, Dean, but now isn't the time to ask them, and you're sure as hell not going to give me any answers. I wanted a drink."

"And you just happened to stop in for a drink in the same place as me?"

"No, of course not. I wanted to come and see you, Dean. We didn't even get chance to say hi."

"Well, hi." He doesn't mean to smile -- sure as hell doesn't feel like smiling -- but something makes him turn, makes his lips quirk at the corner. She smiles back, a similar little quirk and then drinks a bit more. It's easier than he thought it'd be, somehow.

She lets the silence sit for a moment, and then straightens up a bit. Bracing herself, almost. "Sorry I didn't catch Sam."

"So you know he's gone."

"He called Mom. She was serious about the speed dial, by the way." Jo sighs and gets to her feet. "You need anything, you call. You don't need anything, you at least text me. You know how to text, right?"

"I think I can manage that," Dean says, and he kind of wants to smile again, because she's grown up a bit. She really has. She gets up, now, and it's even there in the way she moves, some kind of tangible difference that says she's making it, she's doing okay, she'll do okay.

"You know, I thought about slapping you," she says, not looking at his face, looking at the bar, at his drink, at his hands. "I thought about kissing you, too. But none of that's a good idea right now. If someone touches you right now, I think you'll break. And don't get all macho on me, you know what I mean and it's just the truth. That's how you need to be right now. Fine. But text me, anyway."

He doesn't bother to lie. "I'll try and remember."

"See you around," she says, and leaves, with a new easy grace that he kind of envies, because no matter what Ellen says, it looks like Jo's doing just exactly what she wants and knows just exactly where she fits. Like he did, once.

"See you," he says, but only once she's safely gone.


End file.
